If Only You Knew
by LiveBreatheVampires
Summary: Damon Salvatore: A mentally challenged, deformed and socially isolated man who has become victim to others' mind games. Elena Gilbert: A mysterious girl raised in a mental Asylum who has a cryptic past. Dark circumstances have brought them together, but are they going to be each other's heroes or rather, each other's undoing?
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! I am back with a new story. Basically, in this story Damon's going to be quite mentally challenged, due to being socially isolated. There is only one person he knows, and this person is not someone I would consider a genuine friend. In addition, he is also physically deformed, and he is often underestimated due to his state of mind. This is until a certain Elena Gilbert somehow enters his life...**

**PS: Damon's still a vampire, but you have been warned: It's not the Damon we are used to, due to his mental disability.**

**Would like to thank my friend ThroughMySoul44 for betaing as well as encouraging me to post this. Please support her stories, especially "Words Unspoken".**

**The story is Rated M. **

**I hope you like this short introduction chapter.**

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><p>The sky was grey and it looked like it was going to rain at any moment. In the dark, the trees surrounding the isolated house stood like guards of some sort, but the man looking through the glass window knew that those guards weren't there to protect his premises. They were there to keep him from going outside into the real world.<p>

Finally looking up to see his blurry reflection in the window, Damon's hand covered one side of his face. His mouth twisted in disgust as he poked the left side of his face repetitively like he always did, and just like every other day, he couldn't feel anything. That side of his face had long been dead. Exactly like every other day in his miserable existence, the feeling of numbness caused him great anger, and almost compulsively, he began to poke his face even harder until he was breathless.

There was a brief knock on the door, and even though it was a very soft knock, in the silence of Damon's house it seemed like it was the loudest and most startling noise in the world. Damon made a sound which was neither a growl nor a groan, but it was certainly a displeasing one. He had but one visitor, a young man who Damon never enjoyed talking to. Even so, he was the only contact Damon had with the outside world. Forced to go through the torture of answering the door, Damon always nervously opened the barrier just enough for him to hear Enzo. Habitually, the man hid himself in the shadows, making sure to never show anyone his face. It was better that way. On a rare occasion, Enzo had been the one who delivered the bloodbags but now, he always asked another person to put a month's supply of bloodbags on the last Friday of every month, and it had been that way for a long time now.

"How are you, Damon?" He asked from behind the door, but it was a stupid question, as Damon didn't know many words to answer. He did try at times, but his speech was barely recognizable, although he was not completely mute.

"Goo…" Damon attempted to say, but decided against it. He hated the way he sounded. He knew that everything about him was stupid.

"Are those diamonds I gave you kept in a safe place?" Enzo asked again, "You know that you cannot touch them, right? The vampire hunters will come after you if you do. As long as you don't touch them, I'll protect you from them. Knock twice if they are safe," Enzo continued as if he were talking to a baby.

Damon paused, and then knocked twice, firmly.

"I have another offer for you today," Enzo said in a soft tone. "You know that you owe me a lot."

He paused to wait for a reaction, but Damon did nothing.

"I know that you would never abandon a friend in a time of need," He said, a smirk written on his face, though Damon couldn't see the evil in it. "Knock twice if you want to help."

Again, Damon knocked twice.

"You see, Damon…I have a girl in my possession. She's a young girl actually, about seventeen years old. I want to bring her here to the mansion because I want her out of the picture for a while…You know, I want to keep her safe," Enzo lied, "I figured that it'd do good for both of you. It's only temporary, I will take her back when the time is right. What do you think?"

But before Enzo could even finish, Damon was already making sounds like that of a man in panic, shaking his hands and knocking things over as a sign of pure panic and refusal.

"Damon, it's only temporary!" Enzo called from behind the door, "You'll be doing me a favour."

Damon kept knocking things over.

Sudden realization finally hit Enzo. "She won't see you, Damon. I know that that's what you are worried about. Put her in the basement and just leave food for her outside the door. You won't have to talk to her or let her see you…if anything, it's better if you do not communicate with her at all. She comes from a mental asylum. Just help me out on this once, as a friend," Enzo said, knowing that those were the words that needed to be said to make Damon his puppet once more.

Enzo heard Damon sighing deeply, before he heard two more firm knocks.

"I'll bring her over tomorrow," Enzo said, careful to hide the immense trill in his voice. "Make sure you prepare a bed for her. That's all you need to do. I'll bring the other necessary needs tomorrow. I'll be disappearing for a while after that, so I'll leave everything in your hands. Thank you for your help. I'll show myself out-you know that you cannot leave the house. Monsters are out there and they will drag you to hell with them."

Damon shuddered in fear. Before he could leave, however, he unwillingly opened his mouth to speak. "Wait," He said in a very unclear accent.

"The girl…name," He struggled.

"Elena," Enzo replied with a sly grin. "Elena Gilbert."

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><p><strong>What do you think? Should I give it a try or just scrap it? <strong>

**Tell me what you think in reviews-All my other stories will be updated soon.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Wow! Thank you for your reviews and support! I wasn't sure whether or not I should continue this story, but now I am! You can start expecting more frequent updates :D Thanks again. **

**Important: You will be seeing this childlike figure (Damon) and therefore to emphasise on his simplicity, I will be using short sentences and see the world "through his eyes". Stay tuned for the AN below for a Recap.**

**Huge thanks to my close friend and beta ThroughMySoul44, please support her story "Words Unspoken" and her other fanfictions.**

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><p>Damon stepped out of the shower, a towel secured around his waist. It was raining, and the sound of the water droplets pounding against the roof always seemed to calm him down whenever he felt nervous. He did hate the thunderstorms though. They made him feel scared and helpless.<p>

Still, his worst fear was his own appearance. Taking long breaths, he dried his hair and avoided looking at the broken mirror in the bathroom. That was what he usually did-he would either poke his face repetitively, get lost in a mass of hysteria while doing so, or else just ignore his appearance and remain calm.

He didn't go out anymore. He had realised over time that it was no use to go out, when it would just ruin his calm and good mood. Humans were evil. Everything around him was evil. He could still remember the evening he went out by the river, where he saw a family camping. The young girl was playing beside the water and he had gone there to try and say 'hi', but she had screamed bloody murder. Even her parents shooed him away. He had returned home, tears streaming down his cheeks, gasping, and he had broken everything that reminded him of his ugliness. He couldn't stand it-He only acted normal when he wasn't reminded that he was ugly. His worst regret was that he hadn't listened to Enzo. Enzo had told him once that it was better to remain in the dark. If he had listened, then he wouldn't have known that he wasn't like other people. He wouldn't have known that he was ugly. Enzo had been right on that one. The only fresh air he got now was from the gardens, and it would always end up badly. The garden was a nice place, but his plants were all dead. Damon usually thought that his ugliness had scared the plants away, killing themselves from the sight of him.

Damon's nerves were tight as drum. He was curious but scared of the idea of having someone so close to him, even if she was going to stay in the basement. He would only feel more vulnerable. But he knew that he couldn't say no to Enzo—Enzo would never let him. He always had to do what Enzo said. Enzo, at least to Damon, was always right.

Yet Damon knew that Enzo wasn't kind at all. In fact, sometimes Damon felt disheartened by him. Enzo was always criticizing Damon and making him feel worthless. At times, Damon felt so hurt that he started to actually believe that he was indeed worthless, but then he realised that maybe he was good in something after all-in art. And by art, it wasn't just painting, it was literature as well as music. He found solace in music and bonded with the poems as if they were the friends he yearned for. He was severely underestimated by Enzo and by others around him, yet Damon, on countless occasions, had proven that he too had the ability to think and feel, even if it was done differently from others.

Suddenly excited by the thought of the girl living with him, Damon headed to the living room and grabbed his painting set. Turning his attention to the easel, he attempted to draw a picture of a girl, but he soon realised that he had forgotten what women look like, or humans for that matter. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths, his hands shaking as they rested on the easel, but to no avail.

Too long.

It had been too long since he talked to someone face to face. He always talked to Enzo through the door, and he felt the need to just face someone. At the same time, he didn't want her to see him, he knew that she'd be disgusted. And how could he talk to her, when he struggled to form words? Damon sighed, feeling sad like he always felt when he thought of his inferiority. He wasn't asking for much. He just wanted someone to talk to, to look into their eyes without seeing fear. He didn't want to be alone anymore. He knew that it wasn't normal to be alone.

It occurred to him that Enzo didn't exactly tell him when he was coming. He hoped it was in the morning, because now that he was assured that she won't be seeing his face, he was actually rather excited to meet the girl. Even though Enzo had warned him not to talk to her, he was still planning to at least try to learn everything about her, even if he was going to do so secretly at first. He had to see her. He had to take in her appearance and memorize it so that he could draw her, so that when she left, he'd never forget what it meant to be able to look at a woman and drink in her every detail.

Happy by the thought, Damon went down to the basement. There was already an old mattress there. It'd have to do until he'd find something better. The basement was also fairly clean, and Damon seemed satisfied enough. He hurried up the stairs to get into bed, so that somehow, morning would come quicker.

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><p>Damon awoke at six thirty, just like usual. His life was always the same, boring routine, as if he were stuck in a loop. He walked to the kitchen, popped a blood-bag into his microwave, made himself a piece of toast, and tapped his fingers on the table impatiently. He was feeling nervous and it was also because for once in his life, he wasn't going to listen to Enzo. He was going to try and bond with her even though the man had told him not to.<p>

A few minutes later, there was a firm knock on the door. He basically flew off his seat, over-excited when he heard Enzo's voice.

"Damon, I need you to step outside…The girl is asleep. You'll have to carry her."

Damon started to shake his head in refusal, but then realised that Enzo couldn't see him so he started to pound at the door to show his disapproval.

"Come on, Damon, just this once…" Enzo tried again.

"No." Damon said firmly, though his accent was thick. "Enzo, no see I's face."

Damon heard Enzo sighing. "Fine. I'm placing the girl on your bench, on the porch."

Damon didn't say anything, but he did hear Enzo walking away.

"When you come for her?" He asked him.

"She'll be staying here, for now," The voice answered without answering at all. "Just do as I say, and be a good boy."

Damon nodded his head from behind the door. "Okay."

He failed to see the smirk on Enzo's face as the latter hurried off the property, because Damon was too preoccupied with the thought of the girl actually being this close to him. Hesitant, he opened the door slightly and stepped out. He hoped that she was still asleep, he didn't want her to scream bloody murder at the sight of him.

He took slow, hesitant steps, lowering his body and his head to check whether her eyes were open or not. He took a deep breath and finally headed towards the bench, fear, excitement and nervousness overwhelming him. Sweat was actually covering his forehead, but a smile was still tugged on his lips, a sign that he yearned for this-for having someone around, to lurk in the shadows and simply study another person. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw that the young girl asleep on the bench...it was nothing like he could've imagined. He was sure that even if he had managed to draw a woman, it wouldn't be anything like the girl sleeping in front of him. Her hair fell in long waves down her back, dark and clean. Her lips were full, rosy, and her cheeks bright pink, as if she were shy. She was little, compared to him, at least. In fact, she looked too skinny and fragile, lying there on her right side.

Elena, Enzo had said. Her name was Elena.

He had never heard such a beautiful name, and he had read many books and poems. She hadn't been there for five minutes and she had already astonished him. Everything about her seemed like magic to Damon's eyes, it was as if Elena was a mythical creature.

He knelt down in front of her, watching her curiously. He noticed that her chest was rising and falling with each breath she took, and he wondered why. Lost in observing her, Damon didn't even realise that his hand had automatically found its way to the girl's body. He was surprised by how soft she felt as he ran his hand down her side and then back up.

The man was surprised that she hadn't woken, and suddenly scared by the thought, he let go of her and tried to see how he could carry her without waking her up or possibly dropping her. He didn't know how to be gentle or soft. He usually broke everything that he carried, and he didn't want to break such a beautiful creature. Hesitant, he took a deep breath and hooked a hand under her knees and another behind her back, surprised by how light she was. Tightening his grip on her to the point that the girl's knees actually turned red, he carried her down the basement and placed her on the mattress, studying her further. He was still surprised that she hadn't woken up.

Nonetheless, he was grateful. Now he could observe and touch her as much as he wanted. He wasn't close to being done with her yet. He was fascinated by her smell, by her looks and softness, and he couldn't help but run his fingers down her hair a couple of times. His eyes fell on her knees, which were red from the pressure, but Damon didn't realise that it was his hold on her that had marked her. He looked at it in confusion before reaching out to stroke her leg, stroking upwards past her thigh, exploring, and then stopping on the hem of her skirt.

Before he could do anything else, however, the girl twisted and turned, and at that Damon immediately withdrew. His heart ached at the thought that he might not be able to see or touch her again, because as soon as she awakened she would definitely not let him. Letting this insecurity get the best of him, Damon swiftly took off his scarf and put it over Elena's eyes, raising her head a little to be able to make a tight knot behind her head. That way, he could visit her whenever he wanted and observe her without the girl even knowing that she was being observed. It was the only connection he was going to have with her, for now, and he planned to devour it.

Elena, her name repeated in his head like some kind of lullaby. A small smile tugged on his lips as he closed the door behind him and headed to the library, grabbing one of the books that had a lot of baby names written on it as well as their meanings. He had seen the book once, on the shelf, and he never really paid attention to it until then. He quickly turned the pages until he saw it.

Elena. Light.

His light.

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><p><strong>*Enzo brought Elena over. We still do not know why, but as stated, Enzo is not a genuine friend. <strong>

***Enzo is mainly the reason why Damon never goes out, as he makes Damon feel worthless (More of this through flashbacks in the coming chapters)**

***Damon feels simply curious about Elena. He hasn't seen a woman, or any other being in that matter, for a very long time. He is confused, as on the one hand, he wants to bond with her, but on the other hand, he fears that if he allows her to see his face, she'll end up running from him. He is also a bit intimidated by the idea of letting someone get close to him.**

***Since he is curious, at least for now nothing he says or does is intentionally "mean" or "inappropriate". When he touched Elena this chapter, he didn't know that it's inappropriate to do so. For now, he has the innocence of a child due to his mental disability, however we already know that he is not as "stupid" or "worthless" as Enzo makes him feel.**

**As you can see, Damon has a low self-esteem, and as stated in my first AN, he is almost childlike (He thinks that the plants die because of his ugliness, he doesn't think anything through; i.e. he blindfolded Elena without realising that when she's going to wake up she's just going to untie it since she's not bound) **

**For those of you who asked, the story is NOT BASED on Beastly or Beauty and the Beast, HOWEVER, yes, I was INSPIRED from both movies as well as a tv show that used to run in Malta (my country) in which a girl helps a deformed man overcome his solitude. :)**

**Thank you for your support, please REVIEW xx**


	3. Chapter 3

**Huge thanks to my beta ThroughMySoul44 for editing this super fast!**

**Happy Christmas and New Year to everyone!**

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><p>The house was oddly quiet, and Damon was becoming bored. After he had searched for the meaning behind her name, Damon wrote about it in his journal. The word "light" was still echoing in his mind. It was so positive. He had been writing all the details about the girl, starting from her name, the colour of her hair…he wanted to memorise her. He knew that she wasn't going to be there forever.<p>

Just then, Damon heard a scream coming from the basement. Startled, he threw his pen on the table and ran downstairs. He could see the girl through the iron-barred windows, her blindfold gone whileshe desperately tried to unlock the door. It was dark; and Damon was certain that she couldn't see him, but he stepped back anyway. Confusion settled into his features, and he couldn't quite figure out what caused the girl to act that way. Her screaming was hurting his sensitive ears.

Putting his hood on, Damon forcefully opened the door. Elena fell to the floor at the action and Damon remained frozen as she whimpered a little.

"Who are you? Where am I?" She screamed, trying to scoot backwards.

Damon closed the door behind him, putting his head down to make sure that she didn't catch the slightest glimpse. He wanted to tell her his name and tell her to calm down, but he couldn't. He would sound pathetic. He hated his voice, and the way he spoke.

In the dark, he could see that the girl was trying hard to force her eyes to adjust to the darkness. She was obviouslytrying to look at his face, but he knew that she wasn't going to succeed. He wouldn't let her.

Hesitantly, Damon took a few steps forwards. He heard Elena's breath catch in her throat when he reached out his hand to touch her. It made him feel hurt. She hadn't even seen him, and she already hated him.

Typical.

His fingers ran down her cheeks, but with each touch the girl just took more steps backwards, tears streaming down her cheek. Damon sighed.

"Please," She begged. "Who are you? Are you Enzo's friend? Did he ask you to kill me?"

Damon didn't say anything.

"Please, I cannot take much more-" She whispered.

Damon narrowed his eyebrows, wanting to know more, but he stopped himself. He couldn't communicate with her. She wouldn't understand. She would just act like everybody else.

Instead, he hauled her off the floor and half carried her to the bed. Without warning, he placed the blindfold back over her eyes again, causing her to begin thrashing around in his grip. Anger took over him and he pressed her down, a bit too roughly, and remained on top of her until she stopped fighting.

"Please," She begged. "Don't hurt me."

At that, Damon's grip on her loosened. He tightened the blindfold, grabbed a piece of rope and wrapped it around her hands, causing the girl to panic.

"Stop…Please, let me go!" She begged, "Let go of me! Let go!"

Damon jumped off her easily, ignoring her pleas. He threw one last look at her before turning on his heels, knowing that he had to let her calm down. He knew that the girl wasn't acting normal and he hated it. He thought he could have a companion.

Sighing, he locked the door behind him and turned back to the living room.

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><p>Hours seemed to pass, and Elena's throat was burning, both from thirst and from all her endless screaming. Her eyes had given up on trying to adjust to the darkness. The rope around her hands had also tightened, due to her failed attempt to free herself.<p>

For moments, she just laid there and waited, waited for something, anything, to happen. The room was so quiet that she could hear her own heart beating, and the silence was making her uncomfortable.

Her breath caught in her throat when she heard the jingling of keys and the door swinging open. Her mind flashed back to those cold nights in the asylum, the fear she felt when Enzo entered her room, the creaking floors, the distorted memories…but mostly the jingling keys that meant that pain would soon follow.

The heavy door swung open, and just like Enzo,this man—at least she thought he was a man, because of his physical strength—strolled in. He was playing with the keys, the floor was creaking…it was like deja vu. Now all she had to do was wait for the pain.

But instead, she felt an oddly gentle hand on her arm. The hand slid up and down in an almost comforting gesture, a soft gesture which Elena had never experienced. It was tender, as if the man weretrying hard not to break her. She couldn't see him, but she felt his fingers play with her hair, tugging at her locks. Still, a sob escaped her when she felt the man's hands on her breasts.

"Please…" She gasped pitifully. "Don't."

There was a pause, but soon his fingers continued to move downwards, then upwards again. It was as if the man were exploring her body, every inch of her, out of amazement and curiousity. It wasn't sexual, she knew that much. She knew the difference. His hands stopped on her face, and she felt him trace her lips, her face, her forehead, everywhere he could reach.

"Please," She cried, "Who are you? Where am I?"

Again, there was nothing except silence. He finally stopped touching her, but she knew that he was still there, possibly kneeling by the bed. His breath was close to her face, and it felt cool.

She shivered. "I'm s-so c-cold," She whimpered at last. There must've been some sort of blanket; she could feel it beneath her legs, but her body wasn't covered. Her bound hands made it impossible for her to try and maneuver it onto herself.

Still, it was like talking to a wall. Not a single word was spoken. Elena wet her lips and pleaded, "You have to let me go. I've been hurt enough. I promise you, I won't go to the police. I just want-"

She let out a scream, however, when she felt a rough hand on her mouth, silencing her. It only served to make Elena thrash around even more when the hand suddenly cut off all oxygen.

On the other hand, Damon couldn't quite fathom what was going on. He had only meant to silence the girl, but the girl's actions showed that she was clearly in pain. He let go of her and heard her inhale air; gasping for breath. Then, without warning, she started to cry. Tears streamed down her cheek at a fast pace, running from under her blindfold to her mouth. The worst thing was that he simply couldn't understand why. He couldn't understand why she was crying or why she wanted to leave. He would be happy if someone else invited him to live with them, so why wasn't Elena happy?

_Maybe it's my face_, he thought solemnly. _Maybe she had managedto catch a glimpse of it after all. _

His heart felt like it was about to break. He let her cry without interfering, and watched as she began to rock herself. He knew that he wasn't a bad person, his ugliness was his only problem, and he didn't want the girl to suffer. Very carefully, he pulled the blanket off her legs and put it overher body to try and keep her warm. Then, with supreme effort, he spoke.

"Damon," He said after a while, his own heart beating like a drum, wincing when he heard what he sounded like.

Elena's face turned to his direction.

"What?"

"Damon," He repeated, putting a flat palm on his chest. He realised that the girl couldn't see the gesture. "I, Damon. You, Elena," He said in statement.

"Yes," She said at last.

He hesitantly sat next to her and picked up her hand, touching each finger tenderly.

"W-What are you d-doing?"

"Looking," He said with a smile, caressing her hand, surprised by how soft it was. He had never felt anything so delicate.

"Are you…" Elena asked in hesitation, "Are you a foreigner? Is English not your mother tongue?"

Damon said nothing. He hadcompletely dozed off. Touching her, listening to her speak…It stirred new kinds of things inside him. He didn't know what they were. All he knew was that her voice was like music to his ears.

He reached out to wipe her tears away. "Elena, no cry."

"Are you going to h-hurt me?" She asked in a small voice.

Damon fell into a deep silence. He couldn't speak anymore, every word that had come out of his mouth had been a huge effort. Instead, his attention turned to his fingers, which were wet with her tears.

He was about to stand up when he saw her dry lips, and he figured that she might be thirsty. Hurriedly walking towards the extra freezer in the basement, he took one of the bloodbags and ripped it open. With no gentleness whatsoever, he pulled Elena to a sitting position and she whimpered at the force. She opened her mouth to speak, but something very cold touched her lips. She felt him shove what seemed to be a straw in her mouth but when she took a sip, the taste sickened her. She started to gag and fight against the drink which was pressed oddly and forcibly tight against her small mouth, a wave of nausea hitting her. Before she even knew it, she was throwing up all over the floor and the mattress, the rusty taste strong on her tongue.

Damon, on the other hand, remained frozen. He pulled the blood bag away from her and watched in confusion as she threw up, her hands clutching her stomach. The sound of her crying was starting to echo in the basement, and the bad odour began to make Damon realise that the girl was not feeling well. He didn't know why, because he thought that she was thirsty, but apparently the girl didn't want blood.

"Elena," He tried to reach out to her.

"N-No," She fought aimlessly, collapsing on the floor, the blindfold still tight against the back of her head. "Is this why he brought me here? Hasn't he tortured me enough? Just please—kill me already."

She wiped a hand over her mouth as she urged herself not to throw up again. She couldn't understand why this man had made her drink what tasted like blood, but again, after those years at the mental asylum she had grown used to almost everything.

"Damon no want to hurt you…" He finally whispered. "I want to be friends."

Elena didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. All she knew was that she had never experienced this kind of madness, and she had seen dark stuff inside that horrifying place she had been taken to. But nothing, nothing could compare to what she was experiencing now. It felt surreal. She wanted to scream, to run, to die…She had lost all hope.

Damon watched as the colour drained off Elena's cheeks and he saw her falling face first to the ground. Before her facecould collide with the hard and unforgiving tile he grabbed her possessively, catching her easily in his arms. He was surprised by how light she was, and even though he lacked experience in dealing with other people, he instantly realised that Elena couldn't stay alone down there.

"W-Where are you t-taking me?" She asked weakly, still lightheaded.

Damon didn't reply but he opened his bedroom door with ease; shifting her weight in his arms. He took slow steps to the bed and he placed her there. He needed to get her changed into fresher clothing.

"What are you d-doing?" Elena cried out when she felt his hands on her skirt. He tried inching it down, unaware that he had to unbutton and unzip it first; and then he tried shoving it down at one go. He hissed in anger and ripped it off her, and at that Elena screamed and thrashed around in his grip.

"No!" She begged him, "Please, don't…Don't touch me!"

Damon's hands rested on her legs, looking curiously at the newly exposed area. He started to inch his fingers upwards, stroking her thighs, roughly spreading them apart so that he could see every inch of her. His finger then circled her belly button before he moved it down, resting just above her panties. His finger hooked around the hem, moving it down just half an inch.

"I beg you," Elena said hoarsely, "Don't hurt me." She tried to wiggle out of his grasp, desperate. "Just leave me alone." She struggled to pull her panties back up.

"Soft," Damon whispered, moving his hands to her curves instead, climbing on top of her,and then pressing his abdomen against hers. She flinched at the pressure on her bound hands and sucked in a deep breath when he nuzzled her neck.

"Elena," He repeated her name over and over, a smile tugging at his lips, amazed by her existence. She was like a goddess to him. He just wished she could look him in the eye without fear, but he knew that it was highly unlikely. The thought saddened him. He just wanted her to trust him but all she did was cry.

Then, all of a sudden, the girl stopped moving, as if she had fallen into a deep sleep. But Damon knew that it wasn't possible. He shookher as panic took over him, feeling her icy skin underneath his fingertips. But Elena didn't reply.

For the first time in his life, Damon experienced the true meaning of desperation.

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><p>Again, Damon's mind is so childlike that he blames his ugliness for everything. We know that the true meaning behind Elena's fear is obviously the fact that she's kidnapped and kept locked up; but Damon doesn't. In the same way, his inappropriatesexual advances on her are done out of curiousity and not because he wants to hurt her as such-He just doesn't know that these things are considered inappropriate.

Writing this kind of Damon is hard, believe me, and I am trying to bring out the childlike innocence in him. Everything he does isn't intended to be mean, it just is. Those of you who watched Frankenstein will get it-especially in a controversial scene in which he tries to play and accidentally kills a little girl. This therefore makes Damon dangerous to Elena. Obviously, Elena doesn't know that he's not doing these things on purpose; to hurt her.

Thank you for reading and reviewing


	4. Chapter 4

**REUPLOADING THIS CHAPTER JUST IN CASE! THERE WERE SOME PROBLEMS WITH IT!**

**Here's another chapter for you, guys c: Huge thanks to my friend ThroughMySoul44 for her help on this chapter, and believe me...I needed her!**

**Warning: Vulgar language and sexual references in this chapter.**

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><p>"No!" Damon screamed, shaking the girl roughly.<p>

"Wake up! Wake up!"

He became hysterical as he rolled the girl back and forth in an attempt to wake her. Letting her die wasn't an option. He had only known one death; that of his dog Kaya. It had hurt. He hadn't even realised what happened but when he had found out about this thing called 'death' he cried for days. The trembling man couldn't let the same thing happen to Elena, she was his last chance!

Not knowing what else to do, Damon put some water on her forehead and shook her again, screaming in hysteria. He suddenly felt her move and he withdrew quickly, watching her with a mixture of fear, relief, and curiousity as her head swiveled around.

Elena realised that she was still on the bed, her eyes were still covered, and most probably the man was still there, watching her.

_I must've fainted_, she thought. Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt him move towards her. Her legs turned to jelly and she laid against the headboard, away from him.

Damon stood there and watched her. He saw her curl up into a small ball, her head still turning around as if to see from which direction he was coming, but he realised quickly that she was paralyzed with fear. He had to calm her down. He had to.

Hesitantly, he reached out to undo the blindfold that was currently covering her eyes. She gasped in surprise, but Damon managed to turn around before she caught the slightest glimpse.

"Tell me who you are…" Elena pleaded, "Tell me what you want from me."

Her eyes were desperately trying to adjust but she quickly realised that the room was dark. She felt Damon climb up onto the bed and her breathing caught in her throat when he came to be beside her. He straightened her legs but let her lay her back against the bed.

"Sleep," He told her simply, and he rested his head on her lap and placed her hands on his scalp. He wanted her to touch him. He wanted to feel her hands touching his head as he laid there. A poem he once read had described it to him. He thought it was… nice. Equally, he knew that he'd have to leave by sunrise—it would be morning and she'd be able to see him. To Damon's disappointment, the girl remained stiff, placing her hands back to her sides.

Roughly, he snatched her hands and set them against his scalp, earning a small cry from her. He relaxed at her touch, even though her hands were shaking.

Tears streamed down Elena's cheek as she stroked his scalp. Compared to what she had been through, the man wasn't asking a lot, but still, fear overwhelmed her. He had tried to feed her blood before!

She heard his voice. "Elena hurt?"

The question startled her. It sounded so sincere, so innocent and child-like. It occurred to her then that the man might've had a problem in his speech, just like Elsa back in the asylum. After all, she too had problems of her own.

Damon was still waiting for an answer and she sighed. "No."

He didn't say anything, instead he just hummed softly as he touched her hand, the hand that was massaging his scalp.

"Good," He said simply.

They remained like that for hours, yet Damon couldn't sleep. At one point her hands stopped caressing his scalp and he realised that the girl was asleep. Moving off the bed, he covered the slumbering girl with a blanket. Moments later, he left the room, heading straight to his study to write everything down in his journal.

* * *

><p>Morning came and Elena's eyes opened, surprisingly feeling well rested. She noticed rather quickly that she had been wearing the same clothing for quite a while. She longed for something warmer. Carefully, she climbed off the bed and attempted the door. To her surprise, it swung open.<p>

Her heart began to beat fast against her chest as she slowly walked along the corridor, keeping her eyes and ears open and alert. She walked past the kitchen and saw Damon watering a plant, his back turned towards her. Elena's heart sped faster, and without hesitancy, she ran for the front door, which was also unlocked. Her legs carried her as fast as they could through the doorway, but what she didn't realise was that the wind was wild that day. As soon as she let go of the handle, it clamped shut again, and the sound echoed throughout the entire household. She flinched, knowing that there was no way in hell that Damon didn't hear her. Frantically, Elena headed straight for the woods. She didn't care, as long as she escaped him. She had to free the others from Enzo, she had to tell someone about the things she had gone through.

The fearful girl stopped when a large tent came into sight, two men packing their things. She cried out for help at the top of her lungs. One of the men turned towards her and she ran for him.

"Help me!" She sobbed as she threw herself against him, "Someone's after me!"

She looked up at him in fright, suddenly feeling very small. He was tall, and it felt like he was towering above her, his almost black eyes piercing hers. He seemed that the kind of man that could definitely protect her from Damon. He looked brave, and his strong abs seemed to be made of stone. He ran a hand through his thick brown hair and then he looked at her with a cold gaze, moving his stare to the bracelet on her wrist.

"Santa Rosa's Mental Hospital?" The man said to the other, who had stopped packing to look at the strange girl, "I've never heard of it, and I know all the hospitals from Maine to Florida." The other one shook his head and took a few steps towards them. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt despite the cold, and she could see a snake tattoo on his upper, muscled arm. Like his friend, his eyes and hair were also dark and screamed strength and maybe even a little danger.

He turned to Elena.

"Where do you come from? Who's after you?"

"I d-don't know," Elena stammered, her face twisting a little in disgust when she smelled the alcohol and cigars on his breath, "Enzo…Enzo, h-he…"

"Enzo?" The man asked, his eyes dark. "Enzo Whitmore?"

"Yes!" Elena shouted, "He…he gave me to this man, D-Damon. He's after me, please help me…I have to get back to my family. Please."

"Enzo Whitmore?" The other one asked, a sick smile on his face. "Since when does he let his little pets run around?"

"Well, she is a pretty one," The man in front of Elena hummed, eyeing the girl enviously. "What is your name, sweetie?"

At that, Elena's eyes widened in fear. She backed away slowly.

"Don't be afraid, we'll help you," He told her, taking a step towards her.

"I…I d-don't want your help," She stammered.

"Oh, I think you do," He smirked at her.

Elena held his gaze for a brief second before taking off by foot, finding herself running back in the direction of Damon's house. The rough winds slammed against her, moving her off the intended course. The man caught up with her within minutes, attacking her from behind and causing her to tumble face-first to the ground.

"No!" Elena shrieked, tears streaming down her face as the man rolled her over onto her back before climbing on top of her.

"Relax, it will only hurt a second…" He said cruelly, hiking her skirt up and shoving her panties down roughly.

"Hey, I want my share of her!" The other one called, "Don't ruin her too much!"

"I won't," He chuckled as he unbuckled his pants and positioned himself at her entrance.

Elena closed her eyes and bit the inside of her cheek, waiting for the pain to come. Her fingers gripped the grass as she braced herself. Her knuckles were already turning white with the pressure and he hadn't even entered her yet.

But the pain never came.

The weight was lifted from her and she turned around to see Damon snatching the man by the collar of his t-shirt. He was growling animalistically. In the sunlight, she could finally see his face and she gasped in fright.

The right side of his face was immensely beautiful. His eye was a crystal blue, and his skin was a flawless cream. Half of his lips were full and rosy. But his left side was the most unsightly thing Elena had ever seen in her life. His skin reminded her of a skull which had dried up over the centuries, and she wasn't sure if he could even see out his left eye as it certainly wasn't a beautiful blue. In despite of his ugliness, he was the one who was currently rescuing her from these barbarians.

The hero seemed confused, however, and as he threw the man on the ground he seemed unsure of what to do next.

"Damon, be careful!" Elena screamed as the other man rushed to Damon's side, a rigid black rock in his hand.

"What the fuck do we have here?" He roared while the other grabbed Damon from his neck, wrapping his arms around him from behind so that he became immobile. "A decapitated zombie?"

"Never have I seen such an ugly fuck," The other one mumbled in disgust.

Damon opened his mouth to speak, the words feeling like daggers to his heart. He sealed his lips together again just as he began to do panicked movements with his hand like he always did when he was scared or nervous.

The men laughed even harder. "What the fuck's wrong with you, man? Are you retarded or something?"

He played with the rock in his hand and then turned to Elena, who was still on the ground, too shocked and traumatized to move.

"She yours, mate?" He asked Damon, stepping toward the girl and plucking her off the ground roughly. "Have you dug yourself inside of her?"

Elena cried out as the man cupped her.

"Do you even know how to fuck?" He continued to verbally assault, pushing Elena to face in Damon's direction. "We can help you. We can teach you." He stroked Elena's breast. "We can share her."

"It'll be entertaining, right, Sam?" The man smirked at his friend, and then he spat at Damon.

"Come on, man up. You won't be getting any pussy with that fucked up face. We are giving you the opportunity. We'll even hold her down for you!"

At that, a tear rolled down Damon's cheek. He wasn't even sure of what the men wanted him to do to Elena. Still, the tears did not come because of the threat, but rather because he couldn't take it anymore. With his face uncovered, he felt vulnerable. He felt as if he had been stripped of his identity. Damon was being blatantly made fun of, he was being humiliated.

"Come on, you freak! You're an abomination. Make yourself useful for once, show us that you're a man." He grabbed the left side of Damon's face and pressed on it. "Mutant," He spat cruelly.

At that, a wave of strange power overwhelmed Damon and he kicked Sam in the gut. He swiftly grabbed the other man and tackled him to the ground, with Elena safely escaping his grip. She looked at the men who were now fighting. She had her chance. She could leave.

But then, she looked at how Sam and the other monster were beating Damon up. He was being beaten to the point of death because of her, because he rescued her. She owed it to him to save him.

Taking a rock in her hand, Elena came from behind and smashed the rock directly at Sam's head. She screamed when she saw blood sprouted like a fountain from his skull as he fell to the ground. The other turned to look at his friend, but as soon as he did Damon snapped his neck in half like a twig.

Time seemed to stop, and Elena wrapped her arms around herself, watching Damon curl up into a small ball. In the sunlight, he looked like a little boy who needed a mother's protection. He let tears roll down his cheek as he hid his face from Elena in shame.

Guilt began to consume Elena. She laid immobile a few feet away from him. Just then she knew: She couldn't leave him. It was probably stupid to believe that, but she didn't have it in her heart to renounce it.

She hesitantly walked towards him and wrapped her hands around his shoulders in a slight hug.

"Come on, Damon," She said to him, "Let me walk you home. You're hurt."

But Damon flinched away from her, his face red with embarrassment. He didn't have the strength to talk. He just shook his head over and over, before finally rising up from the ground shakily. The humiliated being began to walk hastily, not even caring if Elena followed or not.

However, she did.

* * *

><p>When they returned home, Damon locked himself in his bedroom. He didn't talk to Elena. He just laid on his bed, a warm cloth pressed on his fast-healing wounds. His eyes stared at the blank wall while every word the men had said kept repeating in his head over and over. Slowly, he moved in front of the mirror and grabbed his hair, hard. He looked angrily at the mirror in front of him and dug his fist inside it, watching in pleasure as it shattered against his knuckles. He was going to break every mirror in half. He didn't want to talk to anyone anymore. He wanted to die like his dog did.<p>

Blood poured out of his hand and as he examined it, he heard Elena opening the door ever-so-softly.

"D-Damon?" She whimpered.

He looked at her, but said nothing.

"Please don't do this," She pleaded, walking slowly towards him, hugging her own body firmer with every step. She was fine except for some minor bruises and the psychological trauma, but then again it was nothing she hadn't experienced before. Damon, on the other hand, looked… lost.

"Come on," She said, hesitantly placing her hand on his shoulder. "Let's get those wounds bandaged, and we'll talk, okay?"

Damon just stared. He didn't stare at her, he stared through her.

She gently took hold of his hand. "Come on, Damon. It'll be alright…I'll fix this."

But Damon wasn't paying attention. He was too lost in the sound of her sweet tone, a tone that he had heard before but he didn't know when. It was a voice full of care and tenderness. He had heard it before, that he knew.

Damon hid his face from her sheepishly but allowed the girl to take his hand in hers without further argument.

And it felt right.

* * *

><p><strong>I hope you liked the chapter. In Malta, it is already 2015, so Happy New Year to all my readers :)<strong>

**Regarding questions on Damon's behaviour: The character is NOT based on a particular character. However, when I'm writing, I often get reminded of the scene in Frankenstein that I spoke to you about, Beauty and the Beast, Phantom of the Opera, Terminator 2, and I spit on your grave. In almost every movie I've mentioned, there is a character who is not quite understood by the rest of society because he's different. But, I have to say: I do not expect the readers to see the similarities. It is something I usually "get" while writing. **

**What is important to understand is that this is NOT the TVD Damon. This is not the strong character (at least for now!) that we are used to. I just wanted to make it clear, in case you expected something different. **

**Thank you for your support!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks to ThroughMySoul44 for her help on this chapter!**

**Please Like my Facebook Page LiveBreatheVampires' Fanfiction **

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><p>"Sit down," Elena instructed him gently. Damon walked past her like a zombie and sat on the bed, staring into the void. Elena sighed, a worried expression on her features. He seemed completely out of reality, his mouth opening and closing like a fish as he sucked his thumb. He reminded Elena of a small, helpless toddler. His other hand was shaking as he rested it on his knee.<p>

"Damon, it's okay now, you're home," She said softly, rummaging through the chest of drawers, hoping to find a few pieces of fabric or bandages. After some time, she managed to find a torn shirt, and she cut it into small pieces, hoping to press it to his wounds. However, when she turned, she was shocked to see that the wounds on his body had mysteriously vanished, and all that remained was dry blood.

"W-What?" Elena gasped, "H-How?"

Damon was rocking himself, stammering and mumbling something under his breath. She couldn't make out what he was saying, all she knew was that he wasn't making sense. It was after a few good minutes that she understood his words.

"Mutant. Ugly. Abomination. Ugly. Mutant. Abomination. Abomination. Ugly. Mutant."

Elena found the courage to look up at him. She hadn't done so, because his face...it scared her. She couldn't believe that someone that beautiful could be cursed with half of a face of disgust.

"Damon, what happened to your wounds?" She asked him, biting her lower lip.

He didn't reply. He was busy repeating those three words, and he was doing so rhythmically, as if he were praying.

"Stop it, Damon," Elena attempted to move towards him, but he raised his hands out in front of her as if to stop her from taking another step. It was then that she realised that he was misunderstood. He wasn't a monster, hell, he wasn't even evil. He was just…_misunderstood._ Still, that didn't explain what was going on, why his wounds had mysteriously vanished. She had seen them, she was sure that they were there. He had gotten those wounds trying to save her, she couldn't ever forget that.

"Mutant."

"Stop it, Damon!" Elena said, her voice louder. "Stop saying those words. What those men said…" She stammered, swallowing thickly, "It wasn't true. You're not an abomination."

He stopped at that, looking at her through his intense blue eyes.

She took a slow step towards him. "Thank you. For saving my life, I mean," She stammered, tucking a piece of stray hair behind her ear.

He looked at her for a good minute but didn't make any movement that showed Elena that he understood. It was as if he had gone through a severe trauma. She was certain that he did understand, because he looked at her intensely, but still there was no communication whatsoever. He just sat there and played with his fingers, shaking his head and staring into the void.

Then, all of a sudden, he stood up and left the room without a word, leaving Elena there with nothing but the piece of fabric that was starting to turn cold.

* * *

><p>Locking himself in his study, Damon threw himself on the chair and rested his head against the desk, allowing a few tears to stream down his cheeks. He had never felt so exposed in his entire life. No one had ever seen his face, and now he had been forced to show it to the girl while being so cruelly humiliated. He couldn't find the right words to say, he was too ashamed to allow himself to be open with her. Not now, not when he was exposed.<p>

He wanted to. He wanted to tell her a lot of things. He wanted to tell her that he simply wanted to speak to her.

_If only you knew, Elena_, he wrote, _how hurt I feel today, how desperate I am for some comfort…_

He saw his reflection in the mirror and his fist closed around the pen tightly in anger. That face, it was that face that ruined everything! He knew that he could've had a chance with her, but then he had to walk out there, naked. Yes, that was the word he was looking for-naked. He had read once in his books that the body ought to be covered. Going out there with his face uncovered was like walking outside fully exposed, nude.

But he had to try. He had to show her that he could be civil, that he wanted to learn more about her. He wanted her to know that he was going to try hard to show her that he could be normal, despite his ugliness.

The insults of those men were ringing in his head. His first instinct was to accept that they were right, that he was indeed a mutant, so he might as well just act like one and ignore Elena. But he couldn't do that, not when he wanted her to trust him. No matter how much he hated to speak and the sound of his voice, he had to.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to think of things that would make her happy. Looking around the room, his eyes landed on a bouquet of pink flowers. They seemed nice enough, and he immediately grabbed them, the vase included, and held them between his hands, behind his back.

He took slow steps towards the main bedroom, silently entering the space, before finally mustering the courage to speak. He took a deep breath, he never liked that room. It was too big for him—there was a bed twice the size of a king in the middle of the room, with a large window that showed the back garden behind it. In the left-hand corner, there was a writing desk that Damon nearly never used. In front of the bed, on the red rug, Damon had placed a two-seater so that he could watch television comfortably, his only way of keeping in touch with the modern world. He used to spend days watching the news from different channels, but found it too depressing.

There was not much else in the room except a six door wardrobe and a small nightstand, next to which there was a small passage that led to his ensuite. It was then that he noticed the lights on, and he walked right through the door, gasping when he saw Elena emerging from the bathtub.

Her back was turned towards him, and she was completely naked. Her body was flawless, and it was certainly the most beautiful thing that Damon had seen in his life. It seemed so foreign to him, the body of a woman, having spent so much time alone, away from everything. He didn't even know the meaning of such a thing except from his books, and even then, he had found it hard to understand what the author was writing about. This, her body…it was something magical.

She turned around, letting out a small scream when she saw him in front of her, staring intensely. She could see the evident bulge indicating his arousal, his eyes darkening with lust as he eyed her over. What she didn't realise was that Damon was confused. He was feeling painfully tight, and he didn't know why. He cupped himself as if to try and understand what exactly was going on, and why seeing Elena naked was doing those weird things to him. His gaze locked with Elena's, whose mouth was open as if in shock, her hands covering her breasts and lower body.

Damon let his gaze wander around her silhouette, confused. Why was she hiding herself from him? What was it, this idea of nakedness as shame? Sure, he had read about it from the hundreds of books he indulged in over the years, but he never understood why the body should be covered, and he surely did not understand why Elena was immobile in front of him.

"Please, get out," She whimpered at last.

Damon took a few steps towards her, his eyes soft. He was done being scared. He needed her to see him, all of him…all of his ugliness. Maybe if he accepted it, she would accept it, and for once in his life he wouldn't feel different. He wanted her to look at him as much as he was looking at her now.

He grabbed her from her arms, pushing her against the wall. Her eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat, but he didn't even notice that she was scared. He was busy exploring her body with his warm hands, which were coarse and rugged. That was what confused Elena, however—his hands were harsh but his actions weren't animalistic. In fact, they were almost tender. Still, she didn't want his touch, and she flinched away from him.

"No!" She cried out when his hands ran over her breasts, "Stop!"

"I can be nice," He said timidly, "Please…Let me show you," He almost begged her, unbuttoning his shirt. Elena gasped when she saw the marks that littered his body, from his torso to his hips. They were similar to burn marks, only the skin was thin and dry.

"Don't be afraid," He managed to say when he saw her horrified expression, "Please." He wanted to tell her not to be afraid, not to flinch away from his bestial features, but the words were escaping his mouth. He had been so exposed, he was too naked. He was opening himself to her too much and he didn't even know why—why he had this strange obsession with this girl. His hands closed around his belt buckle and he let his trousers pool by his feet.

He ran his hands down her thighs and pushed her hands away so that he could admire her lower body. His fingers ever-so-slightly brushed past her feminine region, but Elena let out a sharp cry that made him flinch. She started to scream and thrash in his grip, struggling against him, her damp hair splashing droplets of water onto his face. It felt cold, almost as cold as she was. The ache between his legs continued to worsen, however. What was he supposed to do? Why was she crying?

He simply couldn't understand why. He wasn't hurting her. He was bearing himself to her and she was still holding back. Did he scare her that much? Was it his hideous appearance that made her act that way? It suddenly occurred to him—She didn't care. She didn't even appreciate the fact that for him, simply opening his shirt and placing his battered body on display was a strenuous ordeal. She just focused on his ugliness, like everybody else.

His heart was about to break as he slowly let go of her. She let out a choked gasp and slumped against the wall, covering herself as she cried. She had been sure…she had been sure that he was going to rape her. It had been clear. That seemed to be his intention, and yet, somehow he stopped, and he seemed sad about it, as if his heart were about to break.

It was as if he had been rejected.

With shaky hands, Elena grabbed the towel and buried herself in it, still shivering violently. Her heart was beating fast against her chest.

"I'm s-sorry," He whimpered at last. He didn't know what else to say. What was the right thing here? Tell her that he was sorry for showing her his wounds? Hell, he was mad at himself enough as it was. He knew that he shouldn't have exposed himself. No one could understand, Enzo had always been right about that.

He thought Elena was different.

"Stay away from me, you monster," She wailed, trying to hide her body from his eyes.

The word 'monster' echoed in Damon's head. Those two men had been right, he was indeed a monster. Elena thought so too. He whimpered and put his pants on, his head bowed down.

"Mutant," He said, backing away from her. "Abomination. Ugly…" He turned away, repeating those words over and over as if they were a lullaby, leaving Elena on the floor in a puddle of tears.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank goodness, this chapter is finally ready! It's been hard for me to write this, made me tear up!<strong>

**So, we have this situation where Damon wanted wanted to 'know' his body, to understand why Elena's nakedness influenced him in that way. But, most of all, he wanted **** to show Elena who he is (physically). It wasn't easy for him to show off his scars, remember that Damon has been hiding in the house for years and he never showed his face to anyone. Obviously, Elena didn't think of it that way. She thought that he was going to rape her, and therefore she panicked. Damon, however, doesn't know that she thought of it as Rape, (for him it isn't) he thinks that she screamed because she found him/his body repulsive. **

**That being said, I do not want anyone to think that I do not condemn rape. But, in this story, Damon is pitiable because he has no idea that what he's doing is wrong. Even when he touches Elena, he doesn't know how to be gentle, so it's not because he "wants" to but because he simply "doesn't know". **

**Thanks for reviewing!**


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